


Summer Vacation

by clgfanfic



Series: War of the Worlds - The Next Generation [3]
Category: War of the Worlds (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2017-12-03 03:57:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/693834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team meets some of Norton's family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Vacation

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Green Floating Weirdness #14 under the pen name Gillian Holt and Llyr Chaves.

_"Okay, I know it sounds crazy, but my mom and Harrison and Norton and the colonel are fighting aliens."_

 

          Debi slouched into the basement and plopped down onto a chair in the corner of the computer lab.  A heavy sigh echoed through the room.

          Norton grinned as he continued to study his computer screen.  Life at fifteen could be pure hell.  Especially after a year that included spending six weeks in Europe, getting your driver's permit, and finishing classes for the summer.

          Summer was a daunting three months for the girl, trapped as she was at the Cottage.  There were six weeks at a mountain summer camp coming up, but that was three weeks away.

          Three long, dull, slow weeks as far as Debi was concerned.

          Bottom line, Debi was bored.

          "Whatcha doin', Norton?"

          "Dull stuff."

          She grunted and spun her chair halfway around to watch her mom working in the bio-lab.  Suzanne looked like she was doing dull stuff, too.  Debi sighed, louder.

          An almost on-key tune announced Harrison's arrival before he landed at the bottom of the stairs with a thud and entered the labs.  "Good morning ladies, gentleman," he said, then rubbed his hands together, adding, "What's happenin'?"

          "Morning," Norton replied, shaking his head.  Harrison Blackwood was _not_ 'hip.'  "It's not done, Harrison.  I told you it wouldn't be done.  I'll let you know it is done.  Now, go away."

          "Taking Ironhorse lessons?" the astrophysicist asked the hacker as he crossed the room.

          Debi continued to watch her mother, but grinned at the exchange.

          Harrison stopped, reaching out to give her ponytail a tug.  "Hey, Kiddo, why the long face?"

          She glanced up at the scientist and offered a half-hearted smile.  "I'm bored."

          "Bored?" Blackwood repeated, a disbelieving look on his face.  "But it's summertime!"

          "I know," Debi muttered.  "That's the problem."

          "But there's lots of things to do," he said.  "You can swim, sail, surf, ride, run, play—"

          "I did all that," she said.  "And read, watched TV, played video games.  I even weeded Mrs. Pennysworth's herb garden.  There's _nothing_ left to do."

          "Isn't camp coming up?"

          "In _three_ weeks," she told him.  "That's forever!"

          Suzanne looked up from her microscope, a grin on her face.  "Forever?"

          "It feels like forever," Debi countered.  "I want to _do_ something."

          The buzzing-ring of the phone stalled the conversation.  Norton reached out and grabbed the receiver before Harrison could get to it.  "Norton," he announced.  "Hey, Jock-o, how're doing?"

          Drake leaned back in his voice-activated wheelchair, beaming.  "That's great!  Sounds like a real adventure.  Terri's a great lady, so you treat her nice or I'll have to come back and kick your young as—butt," he said, glancing at Debi, who rolled her eyes.  "Yeah?  Wish I was going to be there…  Right, right, well, send me something.  A rich mermaid would be nice.  How's mom?"

          Harrison moved into the bio-lab to talk to Suzanne about her current research while Debi sat, listening to the one-sided conversation.

          "Glad to hear it…  What?  I can't believe she's going— But not that old!  Yeah, yeah, yeah, I said the same thing…  I know.  Hey, if you want to call, that's okay.  I'd love to hear how it's going…  Yeah, I will.  You do the same, okay, little-mon?  Yeah, miss you, too, Jock-o.  Take care and have a great time."

          Norton leaned forward and slid the receiver back into its cradle.

          "Who was that?" Debi asked.

          "Winston Drake, my little bro."

          Debi leaned forward slightly.  "A little brother?  How old is he?"

          "Almost sixteen," Norton said after a moment of quick calculations.

          "Sounds like his summer's going to be a lot more fun than mine."

          Drake grinned.  "He's going to spend a couple of weeks helping out on the recovery of a sunken ship."

          "Treasure hunting?" Debi asked, her eyes going wide and filling with excitement.

          "Did somebody say treasure?" Harrison asked, leaning back into the computer lab.

          "Winston's got a summer job with some divers bringing up what they can from an old Spanish galleon.  I guess you could call that treasure hunting."

          "Wow," Debi breathed.  "I wish I could do that."

          Norton's expression turned thoughtful.  "Maybe you could."

          She bounced out of her chair.  "I could?"  She spun, looking to her mother.  "Could I?"

          Suzanne slipped her pen behind her ear and looked to Norton.  "I'd think that's up to the treasure hunters."

          Debi swung back to Norton.  "Can I?"

          "Let me make some calls.  I know the lady who's leading the recovery – real nice.  Very pretty, too," he said, grinning.  "It does sound like a heck of an adventure."

          "And I'm soooo bored."

          Harrison raised his hand to capture Norton's attention.  "Ask them if they could use two more volunteers," he said.  "I think the trip might be good for Matthew.  He was complaining about being bored, too."

          "Will do, Doc," Norton said, reaching for the phone.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          As they sat around the dining room table, eating lunch, Norton passed along the good news.  Dr. Teresa Marie Delacroix would be more than happy to add two more hard-working teens to the salvage team.  She expected the work to take two and a half weeks, which would give Debi a few days to recover and pack before heading off to the Rockies for camp.

          The fifteen-year-old squealed, bouncing out of her chair and racing around the table to give Norton a hug.  "Thanks, Norton, this is gonna be great!  Real treasure!"

          "I'll give Matthew a call," Harrison said, wiping his mouth with his napkin, then leaving it in his chair and heading for his office.

          Debi returned to her seat, fidgeted for a moment, then asked the colonel, who had sat silent through the excitement, "Do you think Paulie could come, too?"

          Ironhorse looked up from the last bit of his banana cream pie.  "I doubt it, Debi."

          "But it's summer.  Doesn't West Point give the cadets a vacation?"

          "Not like you're used to," he explained.  "Over the summers the cadets are sent off to get a taste of real Army life.  This summer Paulie will be at the Ranger School."

          "Oh," Debi frowned and poked at what was left of her salad.  "That's too bad.  I think he'd like to dive and look for sunken treasure."

          Paul grinned, remembering his own childhood fantasies about being a pirate and finding treasure.  "I bet he would.  You'll have to tell him all about it."

          Suzanne glanced at Paul and the two adults exchanged knowing grins.  Debi had set her sights on Ironhorse's nephew.

          "Maybe next summer he'll be able to take a few days off," the colonel offered.

          Debi nodded, but didn't look up.

          "You know," Suzanne said, "we're due in Washington and New York a couple of days after Debi's due in Jamaica."

          "True," Norton said.

          "So why don't we all go to Jamaica for a couple of days?" she said.

          Norton brightened.  "Great idea, lovely lady," he said, slipping into the sing-song cadence of his homeland.

          Ironhorse thought for a moment, then nodded.  "I don't see why not.  We can fly from Kingston to Miami, and from there to Washington."

          "And when we're done, we can go back for a couple more days before we pick Debi up," Suzanne added hopefully.

          Ironhorse nodded.  "I take it you think we're in need of a vacation, Doctor?"

          Suzanne looked smug.  "Oh, yes.  Dire need, Colonel."

          "We can stay at my mother's place," Norton offered.  "She's going to Atlantic City with her sister-in-law for a couple of weeks.  Atlantic City?"  He shook his head.

          "Does she like to gamble?" Suzanne asked.

          "She married my father," Norton replied deadpan.

          "It's all set, then," the colonel said, trying to sound annoyed, but failing.  "We go, drop Debi off, spend a couple of days at the Drake home, then head to Washington, deal with the meetings and go back to Jamaica for another couple of days before we pick Debi up."

          "Sounds about right to me," Suzanne said.  "Norton?"

          "Fine by me."

          Paul shook his head.

          "Cool!" Debi said.  "This is gonna be great!  I just wish Paulie could've come."

          "Well, he might be too busy playing soldier, but Matthew's thrilled and ready to go now.  His summer is definitely going like Debi's," Harrison said as he came back and sat down.

          "Definitely cool," Debi repeated.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Their private flight to Kingston, Jamaica passed too quickly for Debi and Matthew and too slowly for the adults subjected to their exuberant enthusiasm.

          They landed and stepped out into bright sunshine.

          A loud "A-hoooo!" as they reached the tarmac made them all jump, except Norton, who grabbed Gertrude's wheels and jerked the wheelchair around.

          A younger, walking version of Norton launched himself at the hacker, giving him a hug.

          "Hey, hey, hey, Jock-o!" Norton said, pounding the young man's back.  "You're lookin' too good!"

          "You, too, mon," the boy said, his soft Jamaican accent as upbeat as his older brother's.

          "Let me introduce you," Norton said, gesturing to the others.  "Dr. Suzanne McCullough and her daughter, Debi."

          Winston stuck out his hand to Suzanne and she shook it.  The boy looked to Norton and wagged his eyebrows.  "They're both as beautiful as you said they were, mon."

          "Watch it," Norton teased.  "The young lady's smitten and I've got my eye on the older one."

          Suzanne smiled and Debi blushed.

          "And that's Colonel Paul Ironhorse, soldier extraordinaire."

          "Winston," Paul said, extending his hand.

          The boy took it.  "Very glad to meet you, soldier-mon.  Norton's told me a lot about you, mon."

          Ironhorse suppressed a grin.  It was obvious that Norton's influence over the boy was as deep as a pernicious weed.

          "You know Harrison, but this is his cousin, Matthew Blackwood," Norton finished.

          "Astro-mon," Winston said, giving Harrison a hug that was happily returned.

          "Winston," Blackwood said as they broke apart.  "It's good to see you.  Still planning on college at New PIT?"

          The boy nodded.  "Still top in my class, mon," he boasted.  "I already have the applications."

          "Great!" Blackwood said.  "Let me know when I have to write the letter of recommendation."

          "I will, mon."  Winston turned to Debi and Matthew.  "They found the treasure ship yesterday.  Tomorrow we'll go out and start helpin' with the salvage."

          "Great!" Debi said.  "Do you think we can scuba dive?"

          "Do you know how?" the young Jamaican asked, looking skeptical.

          "Yep," Debi said.  "I got my certification last year.  The colonel's men taught me."

          "I— I don't know how," Matthew admitted.  "But I'd like to learn."

          "That's okay, mon," Winston assured.  "I'll show you how.  No problem!"

          "Is that safe?" Harrison asked.

          Winston nodded.  "I do it all the time, mon.  It's my part-time job."

          "All right," Blackwood relented with a smile.

          "People, I think we'd better get our luggage," Ironhorse suggested.  "We can continue this once we get to Mr. Drake's home."

          "Slow down, Paul," Suzanne said.  "We're on vacation, remember?"

          The colonel nodded.  "I just want to get on with it."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Norton's family home was a large, rambling structure that sat near the beach.  Windows with flower boxes, a covered porch with swings at both ends, and lush green tropical landscaping told them they were going to enjoy their stay.  The hacker led the way inside, showing off the large home that had housed him and his brother and four sisters.  It was open, clean, and tastefully decorated.

          After a moment, Norton assigned one of the rooms shared by two of his sisters to Suzanne and Debi, the second bedroom shared by the other two girls to Harrison and Matthew.  The colonel, he decided, would occupy the living room, which had a sleeper sofa.

          Winston, the youngest of the children, had grown up with his own room – as had Norton.  The wheelchair made it hard to double Norton up, so the boys had lucked out.

          "I'll bunk with you," Norton said.

          "No way, mon," Winston refused.

          "Fine, fine," Norton said.  "I'll just use my old room, then."  He rolled to a corner room, only to find it transformed into a sunny sewing room.  "Hey!"

          "Mom told you she was converting your room into the sewing room late year, mon!" Winston called.

          "I guess she did," he grouched, pushing his wheelchair back to his brother.  "But why mine?"

          "It was the smallest room," Winston replied.  "The two rooms the girls shared are her guest rooms because they're big and have the bathrooms attached.  Besides, mine's full of junk.  There's no room for you, mon."

          "Junk, huh?" the hacker said, his eyes narrowing.  "You mean your computer and your sound equipment."

          Winston shrugged, but he was grinning.  The young man still had dreams of being the next big musical star to come from Jamaica.

          "So where am I supposed to stay?"

          "The basement, mon."

          "The basement?" Norton echoed.  "Can't I ever get out of the basement?"

          "Just kidding," Winston said, patting his brother's shoulder.  "You can use mom's room."

          "Well, all right," Drake agreed, grinning.  "But tomorrow, after you're gone, I'm taking over _your_ room."

          "No, mon, I have an electronic lock on it."

          "And you think I can't hack into it?"

          Winston leveled his older brother with an evil grin.  "You can try, mon.  But don't say I didn't warn you."

          Norton snorted.  "The day I can't hack my way past my little brother's door lock is the day I hang up my keyboard."

          "Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you, mon."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The next morning Ironhorse and Norton took over the kitchen, making breakfast for the others while Winston packed his gym bag for the trip.  Debi and Matthew hovered in the boy's room, supervising the packing and asking a non-stop stream of questions.

          Suzanne passed by, shaking her head and wishing that she had a fourth the energy the kids did.  Walking into the kitchen, she headed straight for the coffeemaker.  Norton rolled up to the far side of the table, delivering a stack of pancakes.  "Get 'em while they're hot!" he announced.

          Blackwood yanked the back door open and stepped inside.  "Did I hear breakfast announced?"

          "You heard," Suzanne said, sliding into a chair and reaching for several of the large golden brown disks before Blackwood could beat her to it.

          "Norton, this location is beautiful.  I watched the sunrise and it was spectacular!"

          "That's why my mom wanted dad to build here," the hacker replied, making another pot of coffee.

          "You should really join me tomorrow," Blackwood told Suzanne.

          "Harrison, I have two days of vacation.  Sleeping in is a requirement."

          "You can sleep anywhere, Suzanne," he argued, helping himself to the rest of the pancakes.  "But a good sunrise is… spiritual."

          Ironhorse shook his head, pouring out several more cakes on the large built-in griddle on the stove.

          "You disagree, Colonel?" Harrison challenged.

          Before the debate could start, Debi, Matthew, and Winston rushed into the kitchen, descending on the table.

          "Where's the food?" Debi asked, eying her mother's plate hungrily.

          "On the way," the colonel said, flipping the pancakes as he spoke.

          "Mmm, smells good," Matthew said.  "I'm starved."

          "They are good," Harrison said around a bite.  "Taking lessons from Mrs. Pennysworth, Colonel?"

          "Here you go," Ironhorse said, delivering three of the large cakes to each of the kids' plates and ignoring Blackwood.

          The threesome dived into their meal while Paul put on another round.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          After the semi-leisurely breakfast Suzanne and Harrison helped the teens load their luggage into the Drake van while Norton called Dr. Teresa Marie Delacroix for directions to the dock she was sailing from.  He hung up with a huge grin on his face.

          "What's up?" Ironhorse asked, having just finished cleaning the kitchen.

          "Nothing, I was just thinking about playing hooky."

          "Oh no, you don't," Paul countered.  "We need you in Washington to explain the satellite system you want."

          "I know, I know, but you haven't met Terri yet."

          "We're ready!" Suzanne called form the front door.

          "Coming!" Paul called back.  "Well, Mr. Drake, shall we?"

          "Yep," Norton said, thinking that as soon as they got back he was going to try his hand at cracking Winston's electronic door lock.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The half-hour drive along the island's coast was too short for the adults, who spent the trip admiring the beach.  Winston pulled off the road and deftly maneuvered a rough dirt trail down to a weathered dock where a good-sized boat waited for them.  Emblazoned across the closed wheelhouse door was the title:   _University of Florida, Caribbean Research Unit_.

          Winston parked, him, Debi, and Matthew piling out and rushing to the back of the van where their gear was piled.  Harrison and Paul helped move Norton from his seat to Gertrude, then followed after the teens as they jogged to the boat.

          A tall, shapely mulatto woman exited the wheelhouse and joined the teens on the dock.  She shook hands with each of them, then glanced up and waved at Norton, who waved back.

          "Hurry up, Gertrude," he commanded the voice-activated wheelchair, the electric motor humming slightly louder as she picked up speed.

          Reaching the dock, Norton said, "Slow," then "Gertrude, stop" when he reached the woman.  She was as beautiful as he remembered.  Almost six feet tall, Dr. Teresa Marie Delacroix sported coco-colored skin, high cheek bones, long black hair, and pale green eyes guaranteed to drive male graduate students wild.  And with degrees in cultural anthropology, archeology, and oceanography, she had the opportunity to drive a lot of grads crazy.

          "Terri!" he said.

          "Norton!" she replied, stepping forward to take his hands in hers.  Then, leaning over, she kissed his cheek.  "It is so good to see you."

          "You, too," Norton said, giving her a kiss on the lips before he let her go.  "How have you been?"

          "Great," she said with a slight accent.  "They finally gave me tenure last year, then the grant for this project came through.  I guess I'm on a roll."

          "How's David?"

          "Busy, just like always," she said.  "He's leading a dig in Nigeria for the summer."

          "David?" Winston asked, already under Terri's spell.

          "My husband," she explained.  "He's a cultural anthropologist and archeologist, too, but he's digs in the deserts and I dig under the water."

          "Oh," the teen replied, the disappointment clear in his voice.

          "And the kids?" Norton asked.

          "Kids?" Matthew almost moaned.

          Terri grinned, used to the reaction.  "They're fine.  My sister took them to Tibet."

          "Is she an anthropologist, too?" Debi asked, enjoying the boys' disappointment.  Like they even had a chance!

          "No, she's a religious scholar," Terri said.  "She was invited to spend a few days in a Shurpa village, talking to a Tibetan shaman."

          "Wow," Debi breathed.

          "Yeah, that's just what I thought, too," the woman agreed.  "You must be Debi McCullough," she added, extending her hand.

          Debi nodded and shook hands.

          Terri turned.  "And that means you must be Matthew Blackwood?"

          "Yeah," Matt said, blushing slightly as he shook her hand.

          "You haven't lost your charm," Norton said.  "This is Debi's mom, Suzanne McCullough," he introduced.  "And you've heard about this man, Harrison Blackwood…"

          Terri smiled.  "It's nice to finally meet you, Dr. Blackwood, or should I just call you Harrison?"

          "Please," the man replied.

          "And this is our colonel, Paul Ironhorse."

          "Dr. Delacroix," Ironhorse said.

          "It's Terri, Colonel."  She turned to the teens.  "Now, if you'll bring your gear I'll show you where you'll be staying."  Terri gestured to the boat.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          After showing the teens to a forward cabin they would be sharing, Terri returned to the salon where the adult Project members waited.  "They're unpacking," she said, walking over to sit at the wet bar that was stocked with fruit juices and soda.  "We'll set out in an hour or so," she explained.

          "What's the plan?" Norton asked.

          "Well, we're working with a team from the university of Madrid, Spain.  Some amateur treasure hunters found some debris last year that suggest they found the _Magdalena_ , a ship we think was carrying primarily documents."

          "Won't those be long gone?" Ironhorse asked.

          Terri shrugged.  "It depends on the kind of damage the ship took when it sank.  Important documents were wrapped in oil cloth and placed in sealed tubes.  If the seals weren't broken, some of the documents might still be intact."

          "Any treasure?" Norton asked.

          She grinned.  "It's likely the ship was carrying some gold coins and religious items, but it's the documents we're after."

          "That'll disappoint our little treasure hunters," Suzanne warned her.  "I think they've been daydreaming about gold, gems, and pirate cutlasses."

          "You never know," Terri said.  "We might get lucky.  We'll be sailing through the Canal de la Mona between the Dominican Republic and Puerto Rico and diving toward the north end of the canal.  We're reasonably sure the _Magdalena_ set sail from Santo Domingo and sank somewhere south of the twentieth parallel."

          Harrison stood.  "Well, I guess we should let you get ready.  We've got a date with a beach and a picnic."

          Terri nodded.  "We do have a few more things to get done before we leave.  And don't worry, we'll take good care of our crew.  And we're on-line, so you can stay in touch."  She reached out and took a scratch pad and wrote down the electronic address and handed it to Norton.

          "Great," he said.  "I'll give you a buzz once we're in Washington DC."

          "Too bad we won't enjoy our trip as much as Debi and the boys," Suzanne sighed.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          As the sun set Ironhorse wandered through the Drake house, looking for Norton.  He found the hacker parked in his wheelchair outside his brother's bedroom door, a laptop computer open on his knees.  Hunched over the keyboard, Norton looked just like the burglar he was.

          "Mr. Drake," the colonel said, clearing his throat.

          Norton sat up straight with a grunt.  "Man, how many times do I have to tell you, _don't_ sneak up on me like that!"

          Paul suppressed a grin.  "In case you've forgotten our mission, Mr. Drake, we're here on va-ca-tion."  He enunciated the word carefully so there could be no doubt as to its meaning.

          "I know, I know," the hacker lamented.  "But I can't believe my _little_ brother's come up with an electronic code I can't break. I've managed to get into the DOD computers, military satellites—"

          "I _don't_ want to hear it, Norton."

          "And I can't hack into a teenager's door lock?"  He shook his hands at the door.  "It's— It's— It's not _natural!_ "

          Ironhorse reached out and pressed the top of the laptop down.  "A vacation, Mr. Drake.  That means sun, surf, conversation, tropical fruit punch, or whatever the heck that stuff is Blackwood concocted.  Besides, Suzanne's enjoying herself too much to pay attention to Blackwood."

          "And that means you're getting the brunt of _his_ attention," Norton finished.

          Ironhorse nodded.  "I need you there to run interference, or I'll eventually be forced to shoot the man for strictly self-defense reasons."

          The Jamaican grinned.  "All right, you've talked me into it.  I can't let my friends start killing each other—"

          "There you are!" Blackwood bellowed.  He clapped his hands together.  "I had an idea, why don't we make up a picnic and head for the beach?  We can lay out a blanket, eat, talk, maybe look for tide pools, and—"

          Norton glanced up at the colonel.  "Then again…"

          "What?" Harrison asked.

          "Nothing," Paul said.  "We were just talking about self-defense."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Two days later the adult members of the Blackwood Project packed their bags and reluctantly left Jamaica for several days' worth of meetings in Washington DC.  Even the colonel was sorry to leave the relaxed island life they'd been enjoying, but, duty called, as he kept reminding the others – to no avail.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Debi, Matthew, and Winston stood on the deck of the _Magdalena_ , watching as three divers surfaced.  Nestled in the net bags attached to their weight belts were more artifacts that would need to be cleaned and cataloged.

          Stan Tateson, the salvage dive master, stood not far away, watching the graduate students carefully maneuver their sacks onto the diver's platform that had been attached to the fantail.  He looked like an old pirate, with wrinkled, tan skin, white hair cropped short, and several mermaid tattoos decorating his forearms.  Wearing tan cut-offs and a red and blue striped tank-top added to the illusion, but it was his gravelly voice and apparent foul temper that made the comparison believable.

          "Be careful!" he snapped.  "And you're shaving your decompression stops too close!"

          At first the three teens had thought Stan a mean taskmaster, but after several days of stories and demonstrations they realized that it was mostly a front.  He might be cranky, but he also let them do a lot more than they expected, including an occasional dive to watch the graduate students excavate the ocean floor.

          "Okay, you three," he said.  "Time to earn your keep.  Who's cleaning?"

          "We are," Debi said, pointing to herself and Winston.

          "I'm doing the sketches," Matthew added proudly.  The discovery that he could apply his budding artistic skills to sketch the articles found had gone a long way toward boosting his self-confidence.

          Terri joined them.  "Looks like enough to keep you guys busy for the day," she said, studying the sacks while the students slipped out of their tanks, weight belts, facemasks, and fins.

          "Stan," she added.  "I'm going to take the _Zodiac_ over to Mayaguez and see if I can get another compressor.  It's taking forever to refill all the tanks."

          "Okay by me," Stan replied.  "Weather report calls for calm seas all day," he informed her, scratching through his cropped white hair.  "Say, bring me back a bag of black beans, will ya?"

          "Sure," she replied.  Stan wasn't just an experienced archeological diver; he was also a damned fine cook.

          "And some peppers."

          "Mmm, sounds better and better," she said.

          "Better yet," Stan said.  "Why don't I go?  I can think of a few more things I'd like to get, and Rummy Joe owes me a favor.  I might be able to work a deal for the compressor."

          Terri nodded.  "Sounds fine by me; I might just get caught up with the paperwork."  She turned to the teens.  "Looks like you have enough to keep you busy today, too, huh?"

          They nodded.  "But can we go swimming later?" Debi asked.

          "I don't see why not," Terri replied.  "Why don't you come get me when you're ready.  I'll need a break by then, too."

          "Cool!" Debi said, noting that Matthew and Winston were blushing.  _Boys…_

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Hey!" one of the divers called as he surfaced with his partner.  "We've got a chest!"

          "A treasure chest?" Debi called back.

          "Don't know, but it's pretty heavy," the grad student replied as he and his companion wrestled the container onto the fantail.

          Debi and Winston climbed down to join the divers, examining the chest while the students slipped out of their gear.  The box, about a foot square, was triple locked.

          The iron hinges and locks were rusted, the wood rotted, but it held together well enough to keep the two teens out.  They poked and turned the container around, then over.  A dull thud echoed from the inside.

          "Mmm, that looks interesting," Terri said, joining them on the fantail.  "Let's take it up to the work table."

          Winston, Debi, and Terri maneuvered the chest to the long work bench where the teens and grad students worked to clean and catalog the artifacts they were finding.  Matthew glanced up from a sketch he was working on.  "What's that?"

          "A treasure chest!" Debi said, almost bouncing with excitement.

          "Let's just see what we have here," Terri said, slipping on her glasses for close work and picking up a jeweler's tool.  She attacked the ancient lock like a well-trained cat-burgler, but it refused to give.  "Rats," she finally sighed.

          "What?" Matthew asked.

          "The inside of the lock is completely crusted."

          She set the tool aside and picked up what looked like a tiny chisel and a wooden mallet.  Using that, she was able to loosen the iron nails holding the hinges in place.  Then, with a pair of rubber-tipped long nose pliers she pulled the nails out of the soft wood.  Opening the lid, they stared inside, the two divers crowding in behind them to see, too.

          Terri pointed to the tannish paste that coated the lip of the box.  "See that?" she asked.

          "What is it?" Debi asked.

          "That's wax.  They sealed this box, and," she used the pliers to tug at the oil cloth that wrapped several items in the box.  "They wrapped everything up in oil cloths.  Whatever this stuff is, they wanted it to reach Spain undamaged."

          "Wow," Debi said.  "Can we open them?"

          "You betcha," Terri replied with a grin.  "But first I want to get sketches of the original bundles, and I'll radio Dr. Montoya.  He'll want to be here for the unveiling."

          Debi sighed.  The Spanish professor was nice enough, but she wanted to open the packages now…

          Terri offered her an understanding smile.  "It won't be too long.  Matt, think you can do some quick sketches?"

          "Sure," he said, grabbing his pad and pencils.

          She turned to Winston.  "I'll radio Montoya, why don't you take the put-put over and pick him up for me?"

          "On my way, mon!"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The first artifact they unwrapped was a Spanish gold challis used for communion, according to Montoya.  The second was an inlaid gold jaguar, Aztec, the Spanish professor stated matter-of-factly.  Terri gave him a half-shrug, guessing that it was probably one of the other MesoAmerican tribes, but an expert would make that determination.

          "Wow," Debi breathed, holding the heavy cat figurine.

          "Yeah," Matt said, taking it from her.

          Winston nodded, reaching out to run a finger down the cat's back.

          The third package was a solid gold serpent, with wings and a bird's beak.  The creature's eyes were shiny green stones.

          "That's… beautiful," Debi whispered.

          "The Indians made that, mon?"

          "They did," Terri said.  "They were quite spectacular goldsmiths."

          "I'll say," Matthew said.  "Look at the detail on the wing feathers."

          "These are priceless," Montoya said, his excitement as obvious as the teens'.

          "That they are," Terri replied.

          The fourth and largest of the wrapped items was a solid black pentahedron.  Debi's eyes widened.

          "Amazing," Terri said, reaching out to touch the smooth surface.  "What do you think, obsidian?"

          "I— I do not know," Montoya said, touching the surface.  "I do not think so…"

          "Me, either," Terri said, picking up the item and turning it over in her hands.  "It's lighter than I expected, and the sides are perfectly smooth…"

          "Cool, mon," Winston said, reaching out to touch it.

          Debi took a step back and grabbed Matthew's shirt, dragging him out of the way as well.

          "What'd ya do that for," the boy snapped.

          "That's an alien artifact," Debi whispered hotly.

          "What?"

          "You heard me.  We have to call my mom and the others."

          Matthew looked skeptical, but since the scientists were at a loss…  "Okay."

          "Now," Debi said.  "The aliens seem to know when these things are around."

          "Should we tell Winston?"

          "No," Debi said, glancing at the young man.  "Not now."  She stepped up to Terri.  "Uh, I'm, uh, going to go tell mom, okay?"

          "Sure," the woman replied.  "Just tell them to keep it under wraps.  We don't want a bunch of other treasure hunters out here."

          "Okay," she said.  "I'll tell her it's a secret."  Turning back, she grabbed Matthew's arm and dragged him along to the stateroom they shared.

          He pulled free and pushed his wavy blond hair off is face while she logged onto Winston's laptop.  That done, she connected to the Cottage computer and sent a page to her mother.  A few minutes later Suzanne's greeting typed across the screen:   _Hi, Chicken, how's it going?_

          Debi typed:   _I think we found an alien thing._

_Alien thing?_

_It's black, about the same size as that black box you have.  It's black, too, but has more sides._

_I'll get the others, stay on the line._

_Okay_ , Debi replied.  She looked up at Matt.  "See, I told you so."

          The boy swallowed hard.  "What do we do if the aliens come looking for that thing?"

          Debi glanced back at the screen.  "I don't know."

_Hi, Kiddo, it's Paul.  Where'd this thing come from?_

_It was in a chest with some gold Indian things and a Spanish challis_ , she explained.  _It's really old._

_Hi, Deb, Norton.  How many sides does it have?_

          "I think it was five," Matthew supplied.

 _Five, we think_ , Debi typed.

_Harrison.  And it's black, smooth, and not too heavy?_

_Yes_ , Debi replied.  _I'm scared._

_Paul.  Don't worry.  We'll be there by late tonight.  Keep your eyes open.  If anything seems out of place, get a hold of us immediately._

_Okay, Colonel_ , Debi replied.  _Hurry._

_We will, Chicken.  You be careful._

_We will_ , Debi assured.  _Love you._

_We love you, too._

          Debi and Matthew returned to the deck, picking up with their jobs and trying not to jump at every noise.

          When the teens were alone Winston leaned closer to Debi and asked softly, "Where'd you go, mon?"

          "To tell Mom about the treasure," Debi said, not making eye contact.

          Winston's eyes narrowed, but he didn't push the point.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Tateson returned at dusk and immediately disappeared below, mumbling something about getting started in the galley.  Debi watched the man go, a chill passing over her.

          "I'm going to go mail Mom again," she said.

          Winston grinned.  "Homesick, little girl?"

          She shot him a hard glare.  "No."

          He held his hands up.  "Sorry, mon.  I was just kidding."

          She grinned.  "That's okay."  Heading for the stateroom, she paused when she heard the telltale sound of the anchor chain being raised.

          Terri bust out of her room, a confused look on her face.  "What's going on?" she asked Debi.

          "I don't know," the girl replied, trailing after the professor to the wheelhouse.

          "Stan, what's going on?"

          The dive master swung around, an angry expression softening slightly as he said.  "Uh, we're taking on some water, I'm taking the _Magdalena_ back to Kingston."

          "Water?" Terri echoed.  "Nobody told me anything—"

          "Just found the trouble.  I called ahead.  They'll have someone waiting to fit her up.  Montoya's agreed to stay here and guard the site; keep the recovery going."

          Terri looked upset, but nodded her agreement.  "Okay.  You're the boss when it comes to the boat and the dive."

          Stan nodded and turned back to stare out the wheelhouse window.

          "I'm going to go contact my mom," Debi told Terri.

          "No," Stan replied, swinging back around to face them.

          "Why?" Terri demanded, her hands coming up to rest on her hips.

          "I've got the pumps on and I don't want any more drain on the electrical system."

          "I'll wait to we get to Kingston," Debi said, watching the man's face.  The expression in his eyes reminded her of Adrian.  She smiled briefly at Terri and headed back to her stateroom where Matt and Winston sat on their bunks.

          "Where are we goin', mon?"

          "Back to Kingston," Debi told him.  "Stan said we're taking on water."

          "Takin' on water?" Winston repeated, shaking his head.  "No, mon.  We're not takin' on any water."

          Debi met Matthew's gaze.  "I didn't think so either.  I think we better tell him."

          Matthew nodded.

          "Tell me what, mon?"

          Debi sat down on Winston's bed.  She sighed heavily, then said, "Okay, I know it sounds crazy, but my mom and Harrison and Norton and the colonel are fighting aliens."

          "Aliens, mon?"

          "From outer space," Matthew added.

          Winston grinned.  "Right, mon, and I suppose both you are the result of abductions and aliens genetic experiments?  Just like in _The Enquirer_ , right, mon?"

          "No," Debi said, her expression serious.  "Look, it's the truth.  The aliens invaded Earth in 1953.  They killed Harrison's parents.  Then they sort of died because they're allergic to our bacteria or something.  In 1988 they woke up again because they were exposed to radiation."

          Winston's eyes narrowed.  "You're totally serious."

          "Yes," Debi said.  "An alien got into where we live and he killed Mr. Kensington and my dog.  Mr. Kensington was a major in the Army in 1953 and fought them back then."

          Winston climbed off the bed and sat down again on the edge of Matthew's bunk.  "So there's aliens from outer space tryin' to take over the planet?"

          Debi nodded.  "And that black thing we found today?"

          The young Jamaican nodded.

          "That's an alien artifact.  We have two like that at the Cottage; I mean, they look like that, but they're different shapes."

          "Then it's a good thing we're headin' back to Kingston," Winston said, relief washing over his expression.

          "No, it's not," Debi said.  "I think Mr. Tateson's an alien."

          Winston laughed.  "He's no alien, mon.  He's just an ol' sea dog."

          Debi shook her head.  "He won't let me contact mom."

          "So?" Winston demanded.

          "I'm telling you," she argued.  "He's an alien.  I know.  He's got eyes like Adrian, the alien who killed Guido and Mr. Kensington."

          "I believe her," Matthew said, hoping that would win Winston over.  "But what can we do?"

          "I don't know," Debi said softly.

          Any further plans were made moot when they heard the turn of a key in their door lock.  Winston walked to the door and tested it.

          "Hey, we're locked in, mon!"

          Debi climbed off the bed.  "How long before we get back to Jamaica?"

          "A couple of hours, tops," Winston said.  "Why?"

          "We've got to get out of here and get that black thing and run away when we get there," she told them.

          "No problem, mon," Matthew said, trying to mimic Winston's accent.

          "It's only no problem, when it's _no problem_ ," Winston said, watching Matt head to the door and kneel down.

          Reaching into a back pocket, Matthew pulled out a small leather case and opened it.  Removing a lock pick, he set to work on the door.

          "Where's you learn to do that?" Debi asked in a whisper as she watched over his shoulder.

          Matt blushed but confessed, "I've been watching this TV show called _Counterstrike_ , and there's this really pretty girl, Nikki.  She's a thief, and—"

          "You thought learning how to pick locks would get you a date?" Debi scoffed.

          "No," Matt replied hotly.  "It's just— Never mind," he said as the lock clicked and he turned the door handle.  He glanced over his shoulder, grinning.  "I think I'm going to learn French, too."

          Debi rolled her eyes and shook her head.  "Why don't you just watch _MacGyver_?" she asked.  "He gets out of fixes a lot faster."

          They split up, each with a mission, and a plan to meet on deck.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Tateson's in the wheelhouse," Winston said when they were back together.  "It sounds like he was talkin' to someone on the radio, but I couldn't make out what he was sayin'."

          "Terri's locked in her room.  He put a lock and chain on the door.  I couldn't get the lock open," Matthew said softly.  "Did you find the black thing?"

          Debi nodded.  "It was in his room.  How do we get out of here?"

          Winston looked around.  "When we get to Kingston, we can take the _Zodiac_."

          "If it's still dark," Matthew added.

          "It will be," the young Jamaican replied.  He glanced at his diving watch.  "We should be back in about an hour or so at this speed."

          "Can we stay out here?" Matt asked.

          Debi nodded.  "I locked our door.  If he checks he should think we're still in there."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Nearly two hours later the _Magdalena_ entered the harbor at Kingston.  Winston, Matthew, and Debi climbed carefully onto the fantail, then pulled the _Zodiac_ closer with its tether rope.

          "Okay," Winston said, "untie the tether, mon," he told Matthew, who did so.  "When I say jump, we jump and swim to the boat.  All right, mon?"

          Debi and Matt nodded.

          "Now."

          The three teens slipped feet-first into the warm water and paddled over to the small inflatable and wiggled over the rubber side.  They lay in the bottom, waiting until they couldn't hear the _Magdalena_ 's engines before Winston sat up and turned on the _Zodiac_ 's small motor and steered them toward the beach.

          "Where do we go now?" Matthew asked.  "Tateson's going to know we have this thing."

          Debi nodded.  "We can't go back to Winston's.  That's the first place they'll look.  My mom and the others should be here soon."

          "I know where to hide, mon," Winston assured.  "There's a cove with a shack.  I used to go there all the time to hide."

          "Hide?" Debi repeated.

          Winston's smile was visible in the darkness.  "When I was feeling sorry for myself because everyone else was getting all the attention," he explained.

          Debi and Matt grinned.

          "I'd go there and pretend I was Tarzan."

          The other two laughed.

          "Tarzan?" Debi questioned.

          Winston shrugged.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The small cove looked like something from a postcard, with wild green vegetation and pale blue water.  The area glowed in the early morning sun.

          The shack was hidden in the trees and foliage, and Winston ran the boat up onto the beach.  Together the three teens dragged the inflatable into the tangle of the green leaves, then led the way further into the jungle-like setting.

          The shack was weathered and dirty, but it was obvious no one had used it in years.

          "We should be safe here," Winston said.

          "But how will they find us?" Matthew asked.  "We can't stay here too long.  We don't have any food or water."

          "Norton knows this place, mon," Winston said.  "And there's plenty of fruit around here."

          "I wish we had the laptop," Debi sighed.  "I want to call Mom and see if they're here."

          "If the colonel said they'd be here last night, they were," Matthew assured.

          Debi nodded.  "I know, but I hate waiting and hiding."  She opened the backpack she'd put the pentahedron in and fished it out.  "I wonder what these things do."

          "It's kind 'a pretty," Matthew said, reaching out to touch it.

          "In a spooky kind of way, mon," Winston agreed, running his fingers over the surface.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          On the _Magdalena_ Tateson maneuvered the boat into its slip, his body trembling slightly.  Three Jamaicans stood waiting for him.  Tateson cut the engine and waved at the men, who moved immediately to secure the boat.  He turned and headed directly to his cabin, wondering what was happening with the gate-piece.

          Nothing should be happening with the piece.  It was in his stateroom, safe, waiting for him to deliver it to the Advocates.

          But opening the door, he knew the object was missing.  He checked the box, just to be sure, and found it empty.  He stalked from the room, angry and frightened.  The price of failure was high and he had no desire to pay it.

          Stopping at Terri's room, he checked the lock.  It was still secure.  "Let me out of here!" she yelled, pounding on the door.

          "Shut up!" Tateson snapped, muttering, "Worthless human vermin."  He could have preferred to just kill the humans, but the Advocates had told him to secure the gate-piece and return.

          He stalked to the teens' cabin and checked the door.  It was still locked, too, but there was no noise.  He frowned and fished the key from the pocket of his shorts and unlocked the stateroom door.  He opened it.

          Empty.

          The damned kids had the gate-piece.

          Tateson turned and headed topside, muttering under his breath in alien gibberish.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The Project members arrived at the Drake house, Norton immediately trying to contact Winston.  Nothing.  He tried the _Magdalena_.  Nothing again.

          "The harbor master says that the boat's back in her slip," Ironhorse said, hanging up the phone.

          "I've got the professor on-line who's at the dive site," Norton said.  "He says the _Magdalena_ was taking on water and headed back to Kingston for repairs, but I can't raise the kids."

          "Let's go," Paul said.

          They arrived at the harbor less than an hour later and located the boat with no trouble.  Ironhorse boarded alone, sweeping the _Magdalena_.  He found the locked stateroom and freed Terri.

          "What's going on?" she demanded.

          "One of your crew is a… terrorist."

          "Terrorist?  Stan?"

          Paul nodded.  "Where's Debi and the others?"

          "I don't know," she said.  "But I thought I heard them out here last night.  I think they were trying to pick the lock on the door."

          "Come on," he said, leading her back to the others.  "It looks like they jumped ship," he explained, then turned to Norton.  "Do you know where they might go?  Does Winston have a place—?"

          "The cove," Norton said, snapping his fingers.  "If he isn't at home, he's at the cove."

          "Where?" Suzanne demanded.

          "It's not on the map.  It's private land."  He grabbed Gertrude's wheels and pulled the wheelchair around.  "I'll give you directions.  Let's go!"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Tateson stood on the beach, a tiny clear tetrahedron in the palm of his hand.  It pulsed slightly, the sound it emitted falling outside the range of a human ear, but the blended man could hear it just fine.  He used the pulse as like an echo-locator, homing in on the gate-piece.

          Nearby the three alien-blended drones waited for his orders.

          "I have it," he said.

          The three drones turned back to back to back and chittered, accepting the information from the envoy and the locator.  When they finished the foursome headed off down the beach toward the tiny cove.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Ironhorse parked the Drake van near the top of a hill, then hiked the rest of the way, using the rise to survey the terrain below.

          "The shack's in the trees just to the right of the beach," Norton said, pointing into a tangle of greens.

          "Colonel," Harrison said, reaching out to grab the man's shoulder and point to the beach beyond the cove.  "Aliens."

          Ironhorse nodded, watching the four men who were homing in on the shack.  He watched one of the men, Tateson, hold out a small object in his hand, using it like he was consulting a compass.

          "I've got to get down there, now."

          "There's a dirt path about fifty yards further up the road," Norton said.  "On the left.  Follow that to the end.  When it dead-ends take another left and keep going."

          The colonel nodded and headed out at a jog.  The other three watched him go, nervous, but knowing that they would only be in his way if they tried to go.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Paul found the trail and turned off the road.  He moved at a fast jog, knowing that the aliens wouldn't be able to see him from their position on the beach.  About a hundred yards into the jungle-like growth, the trail abruptly ended.

 _Must've run out of funds_ , he guessed.

          He cut to the left and pushed on through the foliage the best he could.  Another hundred yards or so in, he caught sight of the shack and the aliens.  He dropped into the leaves, watching.

 _Why are they waiting?_ he wondered, as the four spoke in their alien tongue.

_Probably don't want to endanger the object._

          He moved forward, careful to stay low and in the leaves.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Debi peeked out the window.  "They're just standing out there."

          "Nothing," Winston said.

          "I can't find anything we can use as a weapon either," Matthew said.  "What are we gonna do?"

          "I don't know," Debi said.  "Maybe we can sneak out, and—"

          "Get lost?"

          The three kids jumped and turned.  Ironhorse climbed through the rear window.

          "Colonel!" Debi said, rushing forward to give the man a tight hug.

          "Not a bad plan," he said.  "Leave the artifact here and I want you to go out the way I came in."  He looked to Winston.  "You know the path up to the paved road?"

          He nodded.

          "The others are waiting just over the hill."

          Winston nodded again.  "I know the way, mon."

          "Then get out of here," Paul said, watching the aliens advance on the shack.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The three teens made their way through the thick growth to the dirt trail, Winston leading the way to the paved road.  Once there they jogged to the top of the hill.

          "Mom!" Debi called at the top, then waved.

          Suzanne smiled and waved back.

          They ran down the hill to the van.

          Harrison gave Matthew a hug, while Suzanne checked her daughter over and Norton exchanged high-five's with Winston.

          "All right, little-mon!" Norton said.

          "Are you three all right?" Suzanne asked.

          Debi nodded.  "The colonel found us.  He kept the black thing.  The aliens were coming."

          "How many?" Harrison asked.

          "Four, I think," Matthew replied.

          "It was four, mon.  Tateson and three dock workers."  Winston looked at his older brother.  "What's really goin' on?"

          Norton glanced up at his colleagues.  They nodded.

          "He needs to know," Harrison said.

          "I told you," Debi interjected.  "They're _aliens_."

          "They really are," Norton said.

          "Aliens."  Winston shook his head.  "It's so hard to believe, mon."

          "Tell me about it," Suzanne muttered.  "Do you think we should try to help Paul?"

          "We'd just be in the way," Norton said.  "The soldier-mon knows what he's doing."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Ironhorse waited in the shack, watching the four men make their way closer and closer.  When they passed into the bushes, the Geiger counter/heat sensor began to hum.  He raised his M-9 and sighted, firing three shots in quick succession and dropping the three dock workers.

          Tateson looked startled, like an animal that had just stepped into a trap and was unsure which way to bolt.  The colonel gave him no opportunity either, striding out of the cabin, M-9 in one hand and the pentahedron in the other.

          The dive master's gazed immediately fixed on the object.

          "What the hell is this?" the colonel demanded.

          Tateson glowered at the soldier.  "You wouldn't understand, human."

          "Try me," Paul said, purposefully leveling the handgun on the alien.

          An insolent expression settled on the creature's face.  "That is a gate piece, and one day, when the gate is open, you and all your kind will be destroyed once and for all."

          "Yeah?" Paul asked.  "Well, you sure as hell won't be here to see it."  He pulled the trigger.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          At the Drake house the Project members, kids, and Terri – now in on the secret – celebrated their brush with death and their survival.  Scattered on the house's rear deck, they watched the sun start its descent toward the sea.

          "You know," the archeologist said.  "When David and I were in Cairo I saw an octahedron that looks like this," she said, turning the black pentahedron over in her hands.

          "Where?" Harrison asked, leaning forward in his chair.

          She thought for a moment.  "National Museum, I think.  In the antiquities room."

          "We should check that out," Harrison said to Ironhorse.

          The colonel nodded his agreement.  "I'll get a team on it tomorrow."

          "Are we going back to the wreck?" Debi asked Terri.

          "I don't see why not.  The salvage is going well, and we've got a lot to bring up.  I can hire a new dive master—"

          "Coolest!" Debi cheered.

          "Yeah, mon!" Winston and Matthew chorused.

          The adults laughed.

          "Hey, what are we going to do next year?" Matthew asked.

          Debi's eyes widened, a slew of adventures springing to mind.  "Mom, can we go to Africa?"

          "I've always wanted to go on safari, mon."

          "Me, too!"

          "Uh, we'll see," Suzanne said.

          "But, Mom—"

          "You know, David will be there for a dig in the summer, just like this year," Terri offered.  "I'm sure he could use some enthusiastic help."

          "Really?" Debi said, then looked at her mother.  "Can we?"

          "We'll see," Suzanne said, trying to look like she meant it.

          "But, Mooom—"

          "How about some lunch," the colonel interrupted.  "On the beach.  I'll treat."

          "How could we say no, then?" Harrison said standing, the rest following suit.

          "It would be a great experience," Matthew told Harrison.

          "Educational, mon," Winston informed his brother.

          "You don't have to convince me," Norton replied.

          "The colonel could send along some of the soldiers, in case the aliens turn up," Debi suggested.

          "The colonel could just tag along," Paul corrected.

          "Or make a vacation," Suzanne said.  "Vacations are critical for mental health."

          "Absolutely," Harrison said.

          "Amen," Norton added with a grin.

          "Yes!" Debi exclaimed.  "I've always wanted to go to Africa!"


End file.
